A wild child full of grace

stuck in this dream of a haze

that we all call life

though most times I'd rather die

Regret, hatred and deception

All in the pain of excruciation 

Maybe someday I'll be great

Despite great being the only thing I've chosen to hate

It isn't self pity nor is it envy

It's just the thought of maybe

what I'm supposed to be is right in front of me

that I can't seem to see